A Day in May
by AstraPerAspera
Summary: Sam has news....


**A Day In May**

When Jack unlocked the door he knew already she was there. Even without the stack of folders on the entryway table and the briefcase on the floor by the stairs, the house had a different feel to it. Warmer, somehow. More like home.

He called her name but got no answer. Now that he thought about it, the folders seemed rather haphazardly dropped, and she rarely ever left her laptop anywhere but the desk in the spare room. He called her name again, a little louder, but the house was still silent.

A seed of panic tugged at his gut, but he squelched it. Upstairs. She was probably upstairs taking a nap. She'd complained a lot lately about being tired, having to drag herself out of bed every morning and feeling like she just needed to sleep in the middle of the afternoon. Maybe he'd see to it she took some leave. It was time to open the cabin anyway. A little brisk in Minnesota this time of year, but someone had to witness the last piece of ice melt on the pond, and it might as well be them. Snuggled together under a blanket until the fireplace had burned long enough to heat up the cabin. Lots of ways to keep warm

Wishing he were young enough to take the stairs two at a time, he sprang up the stairs as fast as his knees would allow him. Sure enough, there, sprawled on the bed lay Sam, still in her dress blues, sans jacket. Sound asleep. Jack leaned over, close enough to hear her breathing. Yeah. She was okay. He fought the urge to kiss her, figuring she probably needed the rest, but he lost the battle. Brushing a strand of her now-long hair away from her face, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to her cheek.

Her eyes flew open.

"This is a surprise," he told her. She blinked at him, as if she were trying to remember where she was.

"Yeah—I should have called you."

"That's okay. I like surprises. Especially ones like this."

She sat up and her arms were around him. Long and strong and willowy. He buried his face in her neck, the faint aroma of her shampoo still pleasantly lingering. But there was something more—something she wasn't saying. He could tell by the way she hung onto him, needing him.

"What's wrong," he asked, holding her. If it was within his power to fix it, he would.

"Nothing. Not really," she said from the comfort of his shoulder. He wasn't buying it.

"Sam…." He held her away from him, meeting her eyes, trying to fathom their beautiful depths to see what was troubling her. Sure enough, even in the dusk of the room he could see her eyes were glistening. Still. she smiled.

"I'm fine really. More than fine, actually."

"Then what?"

She reached up and took his face in her hands and kissed him.

"What was that for?"

"For being you."

He gave her an unspoken: _And_?

"And for being my husband."

There was more—there had to be. He waited.

"And for being the father of our child…."

Jack found himself incapable of speech. For a moment any clear, coherent thought simply vanished from his brain.

Finally he managed:

"Child—as in…."

"…baby" completed Sam.

"Really?" He asked, in disbelief.

"Really." Her eyes were still moist, watching him, expectantly, waiting for his reaction.

She probably wanted words. He didn't have any. But he wasn't a man of words. He was a man of action. So he took her in his arms and kissed her. Joyously. Passionately. Protectively. All the ways he felt about her he put into that kiss. And without saying a word, he knew she understood. She always did.

"How far…?" he finally thought to ask.

"Dr. Lam thinks about three months."

From the day she emerged from the shadowed doorway of the briefing room he had thought her beautiful, but she had never been more beautiful to him than she was at that moment. He touched his hand to her cheek, caressing it. She placed her hand over his and guided it down to her belly, which he noticed for the first time pressing a little more tightly against her uniform skirt than it had in the past. She held his hand against it and looked at him.

It was too early to feel anything. That much he remembered. But not too early to know that sheltered safe within was his child. Their child. He had hardly dared ever to even think of it. Raw fear had reared its oh-so-ugly head any time his thoughts had even wandered to the possibility, memories of loss dancing in his periphery.

And that's where he would keep them, now. Barely in sight. Shapeless shadows, that maybe, someday, would fade to nothingness. Although probably not ever completely. But he wasn't going to let fear ruin this. He'd been given a second chance at life the day he walked through he Stargate, and he'd been given a second chance at happiness the day Sam had confessed her doubts in his back yard. Now he'd been given yet one more chance at something he thought had been taken away from him forever.

He had only one word.

"Sweet."

Sam beamed at him. God, but he loved her!

And for the millionth time, that always seemed like the first, he took her in his arms and showed her how much.

Oh yeah. Sweet. Indeed.


End file.
